Love Sick
by RAINBOWxDASH
Summary: Harry's battered and bruised from another Quidditch accident. In his slumber, a stranger approaches and tells him of a great love...perhaps for Harry...READ! YOUR GOD COMMANDS IT!
1. The Infirmary

**This is going to be totally out of the norm for my fiction writing: I've never written a Harry Potter story before (:P) but I'm going to give it a try. I hope that this will please you fellow Brothers and Sisters of Hogwarts. The magic is in you! –Shelby-**

Disclaimer: I do not own the Harry Potter franchise or any names mentioned.

"Oh my god, is he alive?" Harry Potter blinked several times before he realized where he was. Around his bedside where some faces he knew, Hermione, Ron, Ginny, Fred and George, and Hagrid. Harry tried to sit up but found it to be too painful. Several pairs of hands came down and pushed him back gently.

"He's going to be alright," said a bustling Madam Pomfrey. "He's just broken a few bones and caught a nasty chill but he should be good as new in about a week or so." She smiled upon the group of good-wishers and handed a glass of pumpkin juice to Harry, who took it with shaky hands. He sipped the juice with trembling lips and set the glass down on the rolling table before attempting to speak.

"Why am I in the infirmary? Could somebody please tell me why I'm wet?" His voice was shaky and he attempted to clear his throat but found when he did, all he made was a loud wheezing cough.

"You don't remember what happened?" Hermione whispered almost fearfully. Harry shook his head in a way to say 'I have no idea what's going on right now, so please explain.'

Hermione cleared her throat. "Well, it started off with the Quidditch game we had today, just an hour ago. It started off as a good day for flying, but then it became rather nasty. It started to rain quite heavily when you finally caught sight of the Snitch, I don't know how you could in the downpour. Anyway, you went after it as quickly as you could, but we lost sight of you as soon as you breached the cloud bank. You didn't come down for at least ten minutes. Professor Dumbledore thought about sending a party to look for you when he saw a black dot falling out of the sky and down towards the lake. We all rushed there and you were lucky enough that the mermaids didn't come after you. We were so worried, you were bleeding so badly, your legs were broken in so many different places--I--I..." Hermione broke off her explanation and turned to sob onto Ron's shoulder.

"Did we win the game?" Harry muttered. The group looked down on him with shocked expressions.

"We just told you that you almost died falling into the Black Lake and you're concerned if you won the game?" Hermione stopped her tears abruptly and stared at him in disbelief.

"Yeah, mate, you won the game," Ron said. He tried to keep the grin off his face but he just could resist the urge to laugh.

"There is nothing funny about this, Ron! Harry nearly died playing Quidditch... -again!- and you can't resist laughing about this?" Hermione punched Ron's arm and apologized to Harry briefly before stalking out of the room. Ron merely shrugged and laughed. He waved to Harry and ran out after the exasperated Hermione.

"Gee, mate, you really know how to get girls in a real huff," George commented. Harry raised an eyebrow but didn't bother to ask George what he'd meant by that comment. Fred stood up and tugged on George's arm.

"C'mon George, we got a invent a new prank for old Filch! Get better, alright, Harry?" Fred smiled. George stood and nodded. They waved and exited the infirmary. Harry was finally alone. Harry's eyes felt very heavy. They began to close when Nearly Headless Nick floated through the stone wall and stopped at the foot of Harry's bed.

"Well, hello, Harry! I hope you're feeling better, that fall was particularly nasty." Nick's ghostly head flopped slightly before he pushed it back up.

"Yeah, I'm beginning to feel a bit better, but I've seriously got to sleep." Harry's voice was soft and crackly. Nick took the hint and floated silently out of the infirmary and out into the halls.

At last...peace and quiet.

* * *

A shuffling noise penetrated Harry's blanket of sleep. He attempted to peek sneakily out of his eyes but they seemed glued together from the lack of slumber. There was a slight cough, a rustling of robes, a soft whoosh and a sudden pressure on his bed. Harry stirred slightly as if to say to the stranger, 'Okay, I'm going to wake up now and find out who you are'. The pressure of the stranger's body lifted and settled closer to Harry's body.

"Wake up, Harry. Open your eyes..." A strange voice greeted him. A hand reached over and touched the back of Harry's hand with soft fingertips. They traveled up his arm and caressed the hollows of his cheeks. Oddly, Harry seemed to lean into these mystery caresses as if he'd felt them a million times before.

"Oh, come on, wake up, Potter. I've always said that I wanted you to die, but I always lied! I've always liked you...no...I've always _loved _you. Harry, don't be fooled by this rough exterior...there beats the heart of a gentleman beneath...can I just show it to you?" The fingers ran themselves slowly through his untidy black hair and knotted at the back of his head. He felt his head being pulled upwards, as if the stranger were trying to sit him up; but this was not so.

"Please, don't do this to me, Harry...you've just got to know what you do to me..." the stranger whispered, breath hot against Harry's cheek. Harry started to part his lips to whisper something when he felt a fire that warmed his frozen and broken limbs. He felt the stranger's lips on his own, plying them with gentle urgency. Harry couldn't act for fear of being caught that he wasn't exactly sleeping. He kept still and let the stranger kiss him, feeling a strong sense of rightness and passion for the stranger that surprised him. Who exactly was kissing him, and why now?

The stranger broke away from Harry's lips with a sort of choked sob of dread. Again the fingers ran over his features with trailing softness. There was a loud bang and there was a series of grunts.

"Oy, where've you been, Malfoy? We've been looking everywhere for you!" Crabbe said roughly.

"Don't talk to me in that tone, Crabbe. I'm the leader here! Get out before I report you for sneaking into the kitchens late at night!" Malfoy threatened him.

Inwardly, Harry gasped in shock. Draco Malfoy, his worst enemy, just claimed to love him and kissed him?! Harry heard Crabbe shuffle out of the room and felt Malfoy turn to him once more. Draco leaned over and kissed Harry's sleepy soft lips once more.

"I promise you, Harry, that when you wake up I'll confess everything. I promise." Draco stood up and walked out of the infirmary after Crabbe; leaving Harry battered, broken, bruised, and in want of Draco's mouth once more.

**Stay tuned for Part 2! Please R&R and gimme some ideas...hehehe!! ^.^**


	2. The Corridors

**I'm so thankful for my faithful reviewer**** xxxemoshortyxxx**** for her undying support for my work. LOVE YOU, JESSI! So please enjoy the next chapter of Love Sick. –Shelby-**

Disclaimer: I do not own the Harry Potter franchise or any names mentioned.

The week had come and past. Harry was feeling better every day; Ron and Hermione had come by the infirmary and visited him for countless hours. His professors brought him his work and he attempted to do it as best he could without exerting his body. All this seemed trivial compared to the visit from Malfoy a week ago. He relived the intense moment inside his mind relentlessly, remembering the pressure and the fire of Malfoy's lips on his own. Despite himself, he wanted to feel that pressure again…that very thought had consumed him.

Harry walked gingerly into the Great Hall and sat down at the Gryffindor table. He filled his plate heartily, eager to rid his mouth of the horrible hospital food he was given, no offense to Madam Pomfrey. He filled up on potatoes, pudding, pheasant, treacle tarts, rolls, pumpkin juice and finally chocolate cake. He shoveled down his food quickly, much to an approaching Ron and Hermione's amusement.

"It's not like they were starving you up there," Ron quipped. Harry looked up and smiled with a full mouth.

"Buff this foo' if fo muff be'er!" Harry spoke with a full mouth. Ron shrugged as Hermione raised an eyebrow. Harry swallowed his food and spoke clearly. "I said, 'But this food is so much better!'. I wasn't starved; it's just that I miss this stuff!" He gestured to the multi-colored mess on his golden plate.

"I can see that," replied Hermione with a giggle. Ron and Harry joined in her laughter and they were soon back to normal. Harry was filled on the details of the lessons he'd missed over the week and, much to Hermione's approval, agreed to finish the homework he'd neglected.

"Why didn't you finish your homework anyway, Harry? You know Professor Snape will have your head if you don't get those Potions lessons done by tomorrow." Hermione picked delicately at her food and glanced at Harry.

Harry wasn't paying any attention to Hermione's reprimand. He was glancing across the Great Hall at a tall and handsome bleach blond boy. Malfoy was talking to Crabbe and Goyle about something Harry couldn't interpret. Harry tried to appear nonchalant, but Draco eventually turned his head and caught Harry looking over at him. Draco cracked a small smile and nodded to Harry.

Ron had been watching Harry and saw Draco's gesture. He faced Harry and gave him a quizzical look.

"Oy, what's with Malfoy, eh? Why's he smiling at you like that, it's creeping me out." Ron poked Harry's arm with his fork and gave up when Harry didn't respond. Harry stood suddenly and apologized to Ron and Hermione for leaving so abruptly, pleading he needed some rest for the next day.

"Okay, we'll see you later, mate!" Ron called as Harry walked out the doors. Harry walked in silence to the Gryffindor Common Room, passing by the living portraits of wizards and witches past.

"Psst… Harry Potter!" A voice came from behind him. He turned and greeted a hunkered figure in a dark cloak, a mask covering his face.

"Uh, yes, I'm Harry Potter," he spoke quietly.

"I have orders from young Master Draco Malfoy," the figure wheezed.

"Oh, is that so? Well, then, tell me what Malfoy wishes of me," Harry sneered.

"Master Malfoy wishes for you to meet him out near the Black Lake tonight." The figure stood up straight and stopped wheezing. "He wishes to show you something he has hidden for a long time. It is meant for you eyes only."

"What are your master's real intentions?" Harry eyed the stranger.

"I cannot say what my master has in mind. I am contracted to the strictest of silences." The figure turned and walked away from Harry. Harry reached and caught the stranger's cloak and turned him to face himself.

"Please do not harm me!" the stranger writhed in vain.

"C'mon, Draco, I know it's you," Harry chided the black figure. He stopped wriggling and lifted the mask with white fingers.

"How did you know it was me?" Draco removed the mask and revealed his perfect alabaster face. Harry smiled and unbuttoned the cloak from Draco's shoulders.

"It's a bit obvious that you'd want to tell me about your little secret yourself. You'd never trust a stranger with something so dangerous." Draco's large eyes widened and nodded.

"That's exactly it! Harry, did you know what I did this week?" Harry feigned stupidity and answered that he did not.

"I did something I'll never forget. I went and visited you in the infirmary. I made sure nobody followed me; I was completely alone. I sat with you and talked to you. You were asleep, so I gently caressed your hands and face…and I told you that I loved you. It's true, Harry, I do love you. And I even kissed you…I wish you could have felt what I felt." Draco hung his head in embarrassment. Imagine, a Malfoy confessing love for common blood. Harry tipped up Draco's pointed chin and ran his thumb lightly along the curve of Draco's bottom lip.

"What did you feel?" Harry whispered.

"I felt a fire that warmed my body in a way that wouldn't happen even if I was fully engulfed in flames. I wanted so badly to just lie there next to you and kiss you all day long, but that stupid Crabbe disrupted me. Harry, if only you knew how that felt, how much I--" Draco's voice was cut off.

Harry brought his finger to Draco's pink lips. He motioned for silence. He reached and wrapped his arm around Draco's thin body, the other hand at the back of Draco's head; pulling Draco towards him. Harry leaned forward quickly and placed his lips against Draco's with passion that had been building all week long. The fire that Draco had described filled him again like it did the first time they'd kissed. Draco moaned softly against Harry's mouth; deep inside his throat. He reached over and wrapped both arms around Harry's neck, stepping forward; pressing himself against Harry…rubbing his hips against Harry's. Harry sucked in a quick breath and Draco took the opportunity to slip his tongue past Harry's lips. Draco prodded and plied with a desire that was hot, wet, and raw.

"Oy, what's going on here?" One of the paintings had awoken. Draco and Harry fell apart, still wrapped in each other's arms. The painting only smiled and touched his nose. Their secret was safe with him.

"I felt it, too, Draco. I felt the fire when you first kissed me…I wasn't sleeping. I heard every word you spoke. I love you too, you know. It's weird to admit it, but now that I have…you'll never keep me quiet. I love you, I love you!"

Draco smiled. "I know how to keep you quiet…" Harry was once more attacked by the hot pink lips of Draco. Harry let himself be swept away by the waves of raw pleasure and desire that crashed around him. If this was went it meant to be love sick, he never wanted to be cured.

**So that's the story, ha! So please R&R! Ciao! (:3= WALRUS!!!**


	3. The Common Room

**Hooray! This is chapter 3 of Love Sick! I want to thank the reviewers that read the last chapter…xxxemoshortyxxx, animehphantom, LyricalPhoenix18, miss quirky bookworm…you guys are the best! –Shelby-**

Disclaimer: I do not own the Harry Potter franchise or any names mentioned.

"What do you have planned for this weekend?" Ron asked before shoveling down more sausage and gravy.

"I dunno, perhaps go to Hogsmeade…or we'll probably go raid Filch's office. That man has a treasure trove of stolen goodies," Fred muttered while eating eggs and reading _The Daily Prophet_.

"I think I'm going to stay here and get ahead in some of my classes," Hermione replied. Ron rolled his eyes at her answer and looked at Harry who sat quietly at his place and scribbled on a small scrap of parchment with a ballpoint pen.

"Hey, where'd you get that pen, Harry?" Ron questioned. Harry lifted his head and greeted him with a look that represented an emotion Ron had only felt once…love. So, Harry was writing love notes, was he? Who was the lucky girl?

"Uh, I had it in my pocket when I came on the train. I only found it in my trunk just before. It's easier than carrying around an inkwell and quill, don't you think?" Harry examined the pen for a moment and continued to scribble away at the parchment.

"So…who are you writing love notes to?" Ron scooted closer to Harry and whispered, trying to peek at what Harry was writing. Harry instinctively covered the paper with his arm and looked up at Ron, trying his best to wipe the love-sick puppy eyes from his face.

"How did you know?" Harry murmured quietly. Hermione and Fred were oblivious, or so it seemed, to Harry's question. Ron smiled and squeezed Harry's shoulder.

"It's okay, Harry. I know what it feels like to be blinded to love…after all, just look at her." Ron subtly nodded to Hermione. Of course, Harry knew of Ron's practical obsession with Hermione. It had started ever since they'd met but had really picked up heat at the Yule Ball. Harry remembered how amazing she'd looked…Harry didn't doubt he wore the same expression he'd seen on Ron's face as he wrote a responding note to the one Draco had slipped to him during Defense Against the Dark Arts class that morning.

"Yeah, you really picked a good one, buddy." Harry smiled and returned to his note.

"So, who's the lucky girl?" Ron poked Harry in the arm and grinned widely. Harry's eyes widened slightly. Should he lie to Ron?

"Um, Ron, I'm not sure I want to tell you yet," Harry stammered. "I don't think I'm ready to make this a public announcement yet." Ron only nodded and winked.

"That's alright, mate, I understand. When should I tell her…Hermione, I mean?" Ron blushed a little, making his hair seem even redder than it already was.

"I don't know, Ron. I would tell her when you're completely alone; so nobody can spoil the moment for you. Draw her into your arms and tell her all your deepest thoughts, hopes, dreams. If she's the one for you, she'll respond by repeating her thoughts, hopes, dreams…sealing her passion for you with a deep kiss…" Harry remembered he and Draco's fiery embrace in the corridors outside the Gryffindor Common Room. He shivered deliciously at the memory and quickly finished the note while Ron was looking at Hermione; signing his name and placing a little heart by the 'r' in 'Potter', kissing the signature softly. He folded it into a paper crane and it flew off to find Draco.

"Do you really think she'd react like that?" Ron turned back and watched the note fly out of the Hall. Harry turned back and nodded.

"I think she will. I know she doesn't exactly express her emotions very often but I think there's a romantic beneath that cute bookworm exterior. My fancy is the same way, it was hard to get past the informalities, but once I did, nothing could get my thoughts away from him." Harry sighed and then realized what he'd said. It did not fly past Ron, who's expression was a mix of shock and disgust.

"Him..? Harry, you're not…you're not a fag, are you?" Ron's voice trembled and he backed up a pace or two.

"Ron, don't worry, I've never been sexually attracted to you," Harry explained quickly. "I've always thought of you as my best mate and my brother." Ron didn't seem to take the bait, however.

"So, who's your boyfriend, then?" Harry didn't like how Ron spat out the words with contempt.

"It's going to be a bigger shock than finding out I'm a homosexual," Harry muttered quietly.

"Oh, yeah, can it be any bigger than that? How long has this been going on?" Ron was becoming hysterical.

"It's quite recent, actually. I've only been seeing him for about the past two weeks. I don't show any interest in any other male but him…you're safe. Please, don't act like I have a disease, Ron, I'm the same guy I was before." Harry extended a hand and waited for Ron to take it. Ron hesitantly thought about taking Harry's hand for a moment but clasped it firmly with a wide smile.

"Okay, I believe you. You've never lied to me yet, so I believe you. Who's the lucky bloke, then?" Ron felt so uncomfortable saying that.

"It's…um…it's…Draco Malfoy." Harry balled up and waited for the onslaught of curses that were going to be flung at him. Yet they didn't come. Harry peeked out and saw Ron just staring at him slack-jawed. Harry waved his hand in front of Ron's eyes and waited for a response.

* * *

A small paper crane flew silently into the Slytherin Common Room. It fluttered amongst the silver and green clad students until it floated up into the boys' dormitory and found the pale blond boy. Draco sat up on his bed and caught the crane as it zoomed towards his bed. The paper stilled and Draco opened it carefully. He unfolded the paper and read the words penned.

_Draco,  
I'm thinking about telling Ron. I know you don't get along because of your family history. Quite frankly, it's really putting a damper on this relationship, love. If you could just try to get along with my mates I could try to get along with yours. I know it might be asking too much, considering how new this relationship is, but it would make me so happy to see you try.  
If you want to see me, come by the boy's lavatory on the second floor tonight at eight o'clock…I might have a special surprise for you.  
Love you forever, my pet…Harry Potter 3_

Draco clutched the letter against his chest and sighed deeply. What could Harry possibly have in store for him?

**HMMMM…CLIFFHANGER!!! (I'm known for these things lol) R&R! **


	4. The Lavatory

**So, I haven't really had any ideas as to how to plan this next chapter of Love Sick…but my best friend (a new convert to the Fangirl Fanfiction Faith) keeps begging me to finish it. Eesh…quit breathing down my neck, xxdaisy-eyesxx! Gosh! –Shelby-**

Disclaimer: I do not own the Harry Potter series or any names mentioned.

_It is eight o'clock…I'm in the third floor boys' lavatory…I got gussied up…where on Earth is Harry?_ This thought was Draco's constant companion as he waited for Harry to surprise him. He had been waiting for Harry for nearly ten minutes, counting to sixty while tapping his foot impatiently. He might love Harry, but nobody made a Malfoy wait for anything.

There was the sound of footsteps and Draco snapped to full attention. Finally, it was about time Harry got here. He'd have something to say to him…making him wait for so long…

The lavatory suddenly went pitch black. It wasn't the kind of black that simply molded around you; it was the kind of black that went inside you, that became you no matter how you tried to stop it. Then there was a single spark of light, so quick that Draco barely saw it. It was a single tongue of fire in the middle of the lavatory, burning an invisible wick. Then there were more tongues of fire, slowly lighting up the dark room. They floated and sizzled in the dank air. Draco walked over to the tongue closest to him and reached out to touch it with a pale fingertip. It wasn't hot, but in fact, cold! It was ice-like fire!

"How on Earth?" murmured Draco.

"It's amazing, isn't it?" A voice softly spoke through the black. Draco turned and saw a small table set up in the middle of the lavatory. There were also two small chairs and sets of dishes and silverware. What was this all about?

"Who are you?" asked Draco, slowly reaching inside his black suit jacket to touch his wand. He stopped as he saw Harry emerge from the shadows.

"Harry?" Draco pulled his hand from his jacket and wrung his fingers behind his back in a sudden state of nervousness. The feeling of annoyance that he had before was now banished by a sense of girly embarrassment.

"Yes, Draco?" Harry stepped out towards one of the flickering fire tongues and let it float above his palm. "I know I'm a little late…but I'm hoping that this evening's surprise will make you forget my tardiness." When Harry moved his hand, the little flame followed him. He took Draco's hand with his free one and let the flame hover between Draco's upturned palm and his downturned one.

"How?" Draco found it hard to speak. This one small gesture was enough to render him completely numb. Yes, how indeed?

"I've been taking some lessons from a good friend. There's a lot that doesn't escape Hermione's notice." Draco's face hardened slightly.

"The Mudblood? You're taking advice from her?" Draco yanked his hand away, extinguishing the flame as he did so.

"Don't," said Harry. "Don't you dare call her that. She's the most brilliant witch in our year and you can't deny her the respect she deserves. We can't all be pure-bloods like your family, Draco." The lovely mood was suddenly shattered.

"Yes, I know. I take great pride in my family lineage. Perhaps too much pride." Draco backed away from Harry and melted off into the dark shadows.

* * *

It had been three days since Draco and Harry had last spoken to each other. They had avoided the other for fear of confrontation. Neither boy wanted to discuss their sadness and disappointment over the ruined evening, much less to each other. No, they sat in squalid sadness and let their minds slowly rot.

Harry stared at the velvet canopy of his bed trying to rid himself of his gut-wrenching sadness while Ron played with the Sneakoscope.

"Why did you tell him that it was Hermione who taught you all that stuff?" Ron asked. "You know he absolutely hates her. I still don't understand what you see in him, though." This small comment earned him a glare from Harry. It was not a hateful glare, but a glare warning Ron that he was treading in dangerous waters.

"He asked me a simple question and I gave him a simple answer. It's not my fault that his damned pride clouds his judgment. If he doesn't respect Hermione for the person she is then I can't be with Draco. It's as simple as that." Harry choked a small sniffle and continued to stare up at the canopy above his bed. Harry sighed. "You don't know how much it hurts right now."

"Actually, I do." Ron sat up and stopped toying with the Sneakoscope. "You see, I finally got the courage to ask Hermione to go on a date with me. But I said some things that I shouldn't have and now she hates me…again."

"What did you say?" Harry sat up and rubbed his itchy eyes.

"It's nothing important. She thought I meant 'date' as in getting her to help tutor me. I was angry so I said that just because nobody else asked her for help didn't mean that I wanted to. She took it the wrong way and I never got to explain my real reason for asking her out. And we come back to her hating me…again!"

Harry chuckled softly, feeling somewhat lighter knowing that he wasn't the only one in romantic toil.

"Harry, could you please talk to her? I know she listens to you." Ron's eyes were wide with pain and he looked on the verge of tears himself. He really wanted to be with Hermione just as badly as he wanted to be with Draco.

"Yeah. I'll go talk to her. Do you know where she is right now?" Harry pulled on a sweater and slipped on his shoes.

"Um, I think she was down in the Great Hall talking to Ginny. She talks to Ginny all the time these days. I can only imagine what secrets Ginny's told her by now." Ron shuddered and Harry laughed as he bounded down the steps and through the painting on his way to the Great Hall.

* * *

Draco draped one of his long arms across his forehead in a feeble attempt to quell the headache in his skull. He'd had the headache since he'd stomped off on Harry three days before.

Draco had to admit that Harry had a point; Granger was brilliant. There was no doubt about it. She had a brain under that mane of hers and she knew how to use it. No matter how much it bugged him, he knew that he'd never be as intelligent as she was.

It was his damned pride. From birth, his father had taught him that the Malfoy name meant everything and anything you wanted. Draco had become accustomed to that. Genius was not denied Draco, but to the level of Hermione Granger he had no hopes of attaining it. It was so much so that he was actually quite jealous of her; she spent more time with Harry than he could hope to have and she knew him in ways he'd never know.

It was his pride that forced Harry away from him, unable to put aside his differences and make their relationship work for the best. A Malfoy could never be with someone that was born of common blood; especially one that opposed The Dark Lord and his followers. It mattered that he was one of this single greatest wizards of history, the only one to escape Lord Voldemort, and that he was from a Muggle family. That would never pass under his father, that and the fact that he didn't know he was homosexual. Then the sparks would fly.

"What am I to do?" Draco sighed.

"Well, you could get off your sorry ass and go talk to him," Millicent Bulstrode sneered. "You've been sitting there and whining for the past three days. Just go and apologize so the rest of us don't have to deal with you." She turned quickly, here silver and green robes flowing behind her. Draco sat up and ran his hand over his face. Millicent was right. This was enough moping. He stood up and grabbed his jacket, bounding up the Common Room steps and off in search of Harry.

* * *

Harry had indeed talked to Hermione. She had been down in the Great Hall with Ginny, tissues littering the table top. Harry politely asked Ginny to leave them and Hermione looked up at him with red eyes. Harry explained how Ron really felt about her, which caused Hermione to burst into more tears. Harry tried to console her, but she laughed and said she was so happy…hers were tears of joy.

Hermione thanked him heavily and ran off to talk to Ron…'talk' being a very lofty term for what Hermione intended to do to Ron.

That was yesterday.

Harry moped beside Hermione in the library. She glanced frequently between Harry and her Potions homework. She was finally fed up with his attitude and threw a ball of parchment at his head.

"What is wrong with you, Harry James Potter? I haven't seen you this depressed since Cedric died. What is it, or are you just going to bite at me like you did at Ron this morning. He didn't deserve that, Harry, and I won't tolerate it either." Hermione closed her books and gathered her inkwells. "Now, if you'll excuse me, I'm off to see my _boyfriend_. That's a lot more than you're doing."

"Yeah, whatever," Harry mumbled. His depression had worsened over the past few hours. Not only was he depressed but he was biting the head off of anyone who tried to confront him about his problem. That morning Ron had pulled him aside and talked to him. Harry was offended and yelled at Ron, telling him that he should keep his nose in his own business and go attend his own. Of course, he didn't say it that nicely.

Harry sighed loudly, earning several hushes from other students and a ghost, and buried his head in his crossed arms. He heard footsteps approach him and heard a chair being pulled.

"I don't care who you are, but leave me alone." Harry's voice was soft but authoritative.

"You do care who I am and I don't give a damn." Draco brought his head down to the level of the table top, his chin resting on the gnarled wood close to Harry's arm.

Harry bolted upward. "What do you want, Draco? Come to rub it in, have you? Yes, the great Draco Malfoy has come to rub the depression in my face…just because you've got no heart, Draco, doesn't mean that I haven't." Harry choked off a sob and smacked his forehead on the wood. More hushes.

"Well, you're wrong about that, Potter. I do have a heart; a heart that's been bothering me these past few days to come and apologize to you." Draco softly petted Harry's black hair.

"What? What do you have to apologize for? I'm the one who upset you. I shouldn't have mentioned that it was Hermione who taught me how to do all those things for you. She knows, you know. She was really quite accepting." Harry wiped away a stray tear that fell from his eye.

"No, I have to apologize for all the things that my pride has caused. I'm a Malfoy, Harry, and that means that nothing is denied me. I only hated Hermione because she possessed things that I could never have for myself…something I shouldn't have thrown away so harshly." Draco reached over and took Harry's hand, lacing their fingers together.

"Oh, Draco…I'm so sorry! I'm so sorry…" Harry started to sob softly. Draco felt tears coming to his own eyes as well.

"No, my love, it's all right. Cry. I won't judge you." Draco stood up and pulled Harry into his arms. People had now begun to watch the display, some whispered soft adorations and others shuffled away to hide their disgust.

Harry shook inside Draco's arms and clutched on to Draco like a rock in a stormy sea. All the while Draco was softly hushing Harry's sobs, stroking his soft hair and murmuring quiet assurances.

"Come on, let's go somewhere more private." Draco pulled away from Harry and wiped away the stray tears.

"No. I want you to stay right here." Harry pulled Draco back and kissed him full on the mouth. Draco wrapped his arms around Harry's torso and pulled him close. The library chorused with adoration and applause. Harry pulled away and smiled brilliantly at Draco.

"Does this mean that you're my bitch?" Harry asked. Draco laughed and pecked Harry's lips lightly.

"I've wanted to be your bitch for a long time, Potter."

"Then it's settled." Harry pulled Draco back and the library erupted with applause once more.

**That's the next chapter. Hope you liked it! R&R!**


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